It’s fitting that the Merrie Melodies cartoon, I Love to Singa, was one of Tex Avery’s early forays as director. Not only does the short (where he is billed as Fred Avery) provide a glimpse into the unique humor that would be part of all his later work, but the main character is somewhat like Avery himself – someone who breaks free of expected norms.
Released on July 18th, 1936, and celebrating its 90th anniversary this month, I Love to Singa has a plot that pays homage to Al Jolson’s 1927 iconic film The Jazz Singer (the short’s main character is named “Owl Jolson”). It opens in a woodland setting, where we happen upon a tree that has a sign outside: “Professor Fritz Owl. Teacher of Voice, Piano and Violin.” Then – in a sign hanging under it- it continues, “No Jazz.”
Inside, the professor (Billy Bletcher) paces back and forth while his wife (Martha Wentworth) sits in the nest, waiting on eggs to hatch. As they are about to, the professor taps on them with a baton. Three of the eggs have a pleasant, musical “ding,” while the last has a “clang.”
The first little owl comes out of their egg, singing like Caruso, the second plays a lovely violin, and the third immediately begins playing the flute.
The fourth little owl, Owl Jolson (Tommy Bond), comes out singing the title song. Fritz, the father, is immediately aghast at having a crooner in the family and starts pulling out his hair feathers. He then informs the mother that they will get him to sing the way they want.
The short then dissolves to a later day, with the mother trying to teach Owl Jolson a lovely song, “Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes,” but in between, the little owl sneaks in the title song.
Fritz throws his son out of the house, but Owl takes no mind; he immediately starts singing the title song again as he wanders through the woods.
Mother is upset and calling the police, but out in the woods Owl comes to a tree that is a radio station named “GONG,” and they’re having auditions for that day.
A line of entertainers is auditioning, and each is getting gonged and sent through a trap door. Into the station emerges Owl Jolson, who breaks into “I Love to Singa,” and wows the judge (“Jack Bunny”).
His parents, hearing this on the radio, run over to the station, and when they arrive, little Owl panics and breaks back into “Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes.” He almost loses the contest, but his father intervenes, telling him to continue with “I Love to Singa.” The family even joins in dancing, and Owl Jolson wins the first prize, as the short ends.
The song, written by E.Y. Harburg and Harold Arlen for Al Jolson’s 1936 feature “The Singing Kid” was one of several big hit tunes to emerge from this film. “The Singing Kid” was released in April 1936 – the cartoon was timed to come out three months later to goose sales of recordings and sheet music. The song, performed as a duet between Jolson and Cab Calloway, opens the film – and is a true highlight. Here’s the clip:
The cartoon itself, with distinct personality animation by Chuck Jones (billed here as Charles Jones) and Virgil Ross, coupled with its catchy title song, has rightly emerged as a classic in the ninety years since its debut, earning a spot in our own Jerry Beck’s book, The 100 Greatest Looney Tunes Cartoons. The song has become so iconic, it was referenced in the pilot episode of South Park.
I Love to Singa features several of what would become Avery’s trademark sight gags throughout his career at Warner Bros. (in shorts such as Porky’s Duck Hunt and A Wild Hare) and then at MGM (Red Hot Riding Hood and Northwest Hounded Police, just to name a few).
This can be seen in sequences such as when Fritz waits for the eggs to hatch, and the impatient dad wears out a line in the floor, pacing back and forth. Later, those auditioning for the radio station are shot out a slide on the side of the tree when their audition doesn’t go well.
In the introduction of author John Canemaker’s book, Tex Avery: The Great American Director from the Golden Age of the Hollywood Cartoon, Chuck Jones writes about what it was like to work with Avery on films such as I Love to Singa:
“As one of his group of animators at Warner Bros. in the late 1930s, I was as ignorant then of his genius as I suppose the apprentices of Michelangelo were oblivious to the fact that they too were working with a genius. In spite of my intellectual weakness, the brilliance of Tex Avery did penetrate the husk of my self-assured ignorance, an ignorance that encases most twenty-year-olds. Yes, in spite of myself, I learned from him the most important truth about animation: Animation is the art of timing, a truth applicable as well to all motion pictures. And the most brilliant masters of timing were usually comedians: Keaton, Chaplin, Laurel and Hardy, Langdon- and Fred “Tex” Avery.”
As the cartoon is still protected by copyright, we cannot embed it in this post. However you can see the cartoon online – if you CLICK HERE.


Michael Lyons is a freelance writer, specializing in film, television, and pop culture. He is the author of the book, Drawn to Greatness: Disney’s Animation Renaissance, which chronicles the amazing growth at the Disney animation studio in the 1990s. In addition to Animation Scoop and Cartoon Research, he has contributed to Remind Magazine, Cinefantastique, Animation World Network and Disney Magazine. He also writes a blog, Screen Saver: A Retro Review of TV Shows and Movies of Yesteryear and his interviews with a number of animation legends have been featured in several volumes of the books, Walt’s People. You can visit Michael’s web site Words From Lyons at:



















I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Tommy Bond (Butch in The Little Rascals shorts) voiced Owl Jolson.
I also enjoyed that clip of Al Jolson and Cab Calloway singing together. Arsthetically, the skyscraper miniature used in that scene was impressive.
Tommy Bond only sang the off key “Drink To Me Only With Thine Eyes” part. If Bond could really carry a tune, I think Hal Roach would have exploited his talent.
In addition to Mitchell Craig’s note about Tommy Bond, Bond was also the first actor to play Jimmy Olsen on screen in the Columbia “Superman” serial.
That catchy little ditty must be the oldest earworm on my radar.
Yes!
Lisa Giordano, at least it’s a GOOD earworm I never get tired of. Not always the case with earworms.
This is one of my favorite cartoons,but I feel
The background painting aren’t on the level of some other Avery Warner cartoons,almost like a few were black and white re used and painted over
I’m pretty sure John Didrik “Johnny” Johnsen wasn’t working with Avery yet. Not sure which title was the first one he did Avery’s backgrounds (maybe “Little Red Walking Hood”?)
I think this was one of Avery’s first “fourth wall” gags: During the “iris out” at the end, he reaches through the “hole” to grab the trophy.
In the book Tex Avery: King of Cartoons, Joe Adamson gave this cartoons two stars writing “Professor Owl’s offspring hatch out of their eggs not only with musical ability inborn but with instruments. The one who performs pop music is nearly driven from the nest, and his swing breaks in on his serious lessons like Avery’s crazy humor trying to burst out of a pseudo-Dianey cartoon.”
The emcee’s name is Jack Bunny, but the voice sounds like an impression of Fred Allen. He doesn’t look like a specific celebrity, so perhaps the name was just a random gag.
This is one of the first Warner cartoons that I ever saw on TV. As an adult I appreciate Avery’s humor even more, especially the way Owl Jolson’s facial expression changes as he switches songs.
Notice the spelling error on Jack Bunny’s desk: “Amatuer Hour,” which is corrected in a later scene.
(note: the “Amatuer” spelling could had been kept throughout this cartoon and considered a humorous variation of the word “amateur”)
Oh, man. I forgot to put that short in my annual National Film Registry nomination ballot for this year. I always seemed to forget a title after sending my list in.
The actual usage of the song can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDwsbjmNGYI
Until I saw the sheet music cover that’s posted here, I never knew that the title song was written by the great creative team of Harold Arlen and E.Y. “Yip” Harburg. They were of course responsible for the musical score of “The Wizard Of Oz,” and also had quite a few hit tunes on records and radio in the 20’s and 30’s. Arlen’s other hits included “Get Happy,” “I’ve Got The World On A String” (with various other lyricists, not Mr. Harburg), and “Stormy Weather.” which was immortalized on film by Lena Horne in the same deeply moving way that Judy Garland immortalized “Over The Rainbow.”
A great-uncle of mine who had been in the record business for decades once introduced me to his old friend Mr. Arlen. I was thirteen years old at the time— too young to understand who he was! But I did shake hands with him, so I can truly say that I’ve touched the hand of genius!
It occurs to me that you had Tommy Bond from the Little Rascals in a path-breaking Warner Bros. cartoon less than a year after Friz Freleng did “I Haven’t Got a Hat” to try to create a group of kids to be like the Little Rascals, and from that we get Porky.
While Tommy Bond was the speaking voice, another little boy Jackie Morrow did the singing
https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0607502/?ref_=tt_cst_t_6
Maybe I missed it, but where is the mention of the significance of it being performed in blackface?